Beneath The Surface
by VampBirdie01
Summary: Dimitri Belikov rescues a young Strigoi girl, one who turns out to be a spirit user Moroi. Lola embarks on her own journey and struggles with nightmares and romance as she becomes acquainted with Eddie Castile, Adrian Ivashkov, Sydney Sage, and a handful of welcoming new friends. The darkness of spirit has crept back with Lola's magic; will she handle it or succumb? Eddie/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first submitted story on this site, but I also have an account on Wattpad. I didn't feel my stories got the views I was hoping for, so I've decided to try to see how it goes! :D I hope you all enjoy, this story, and reviews would be very appreciated!**

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**Dimitri**

I pushed the smudged glass double doors of the Novosibirsk airport open, and stilled for a sparing moment as the chilled night air crawled in my pores underneath my duster. Winter had toppled onto Russia like it did every year, and the air was crisp with icy temperatures.

The welcoming hum of the Russian language hit my ears, and my eyes shone with warmth. I missed Russia – I missed my family. The last time I spoke to my mama, and my sisters, was before the Strigoi attack on St. Vladimir's Academy, in which I had been forcefully awakened into a Strigoi myself. A lot had happened since that haunting day, and now I was standing on the lively street of Novosibirsk, restored to my dhampir form.

My family had been one of the many first thoughts I'd had once I was restored by Vasilisa Dragomir, who was now Queen of the vampiric world. But that had been months ago, and it was only after stubborn pestering by my girlfriend, Rose Hathaway, that convinced me to reach out to my family. I hadn't entirely been pleased with surrendering once I had remembered the reason I hadn't already sought out my family. I was absolute when I thought they wouldn't want to ever see my shameful face in Baia again.

But here I was, in Russia, in the very city which I had preyed upon, and killed countless innocents in the process. I had been Strigoi for months, and once I had been awakened by Nathan, I had sought out my former mentor from my school, St. Basils Academy, Galina – who I knew had been awakened as a Strigoi a few years ago. From that point, I was a heartless creature of the night, the very bad kind, and I tore families apart with sudden and suspicious deaths. If it hadn't been for Rose, who had at first hunted me down to kill me, and then went on to free a psychologically damaged criminal from prison – all because she'd heard a whisper there was a way to restore Strigoi – who was half-brothers with a Spirit user, Robert Doru. Rose found from Robert that she needed a stake infused with Spirit, and a Spirit user who would use the stake and stab a Strigoi's heart with it. It ended up coming down to Queen Vasilisa, who restored me to my original state as a dhampir.

It had been quite rough from that point, and the nightmares that still unfailingly instilled my mind while I slept hadn't stopped since I was restored. Being in this city certainly didn't help my attempts to forget about my short-lived period as a Strigoi. Simply standing on this busy street, watching the oblivious humans rush by me like a fluid ocean, brought back horrific memories that I'd rather keep lodged in the very back of my mind. For all I knew, one of these humans could be friends with one of my victims, or even a relative.

I shook my head, and tightened my fingers around the straps of my severely aged duffle bag. I skirted around the walking humans, and placed myself in a tight space against the building's brick wall. Glancing around at my surroundings with surveying eyes, I fished my cell phone from my pocket and texted my mama that I would just be around the corner of the airport.

Like a coward, I didn't have the courage to call her and talk to her personally yet. Maybe with her motherly intuition, she knew that, and she hadn't tried to call me. But I knew it hurt her that I didn't want to call her. It wasn't true – I _did_ want to talk to her, and listen to her soothing, beautiful voice that I'd missed, but I was afraid of the awkwardness, the forced conversation that phone calls brought. Texting was easy – cowardly – but I hoped it would somehow make the reunion less difficult and uncomfortable.

I squeezed through the flowing, packed sidewalk, easily overlooking the shorter humans surrounding me. If everyone wasn't so absorbed in their own lives and problems, maybe people would've raised shocked brows at my towering six seven foot height. It made it a lot easier to manoeuvre a path through the crowd, being capable of seeing over everyone else's heads. I pinpointed the corner, and slipped through the bustling crowds to get there, where I relaxed slightly as my personal space became much less violated. Not many of those people's intents were going down back streets, where intimidating shadows loomed. Where I used to be, I thought, and grimaced at my own lack of control.

I needed to get past that, no matter how hard it seemed, I needed to move on. Not just for my own benefit – for everyone else as well. Rose, especially. She didn't deserve my baggage of self-pity and guilt-ridden depression. She deserved to be happy.

I wanted to hit myself as I slowed at the peak of an unsanitary alley. But it wasn't just any unsanitary alley – it was one in which I had drained an innocent human of blood. I remember that woman, she had been scampering home from her minimum wage diner job, rushing to get back to her young son, whose babysitter would earn an extra ten dollars if she wasn't quick. She was a brunette, with natural curves and beauty. She had looked like Rose – that's why I plucked her from the crowd. I felt bile rise in my throat at my own monstrous cruelty. She didn't deserve to die just because she looked like the love of my life.

My ears suddenly perked.

I could a booming callous voice hissing, and the familiar tone made my stomach coil sickly.

Strigoi.

My neck snapped around, and I squinted impatiently as my eyes adjusted to the darkness the alley was enveloped in. But I didn't spend much time studying the sight that my eyes eventually caught.

A petite girl, who appeared in her teens from what I had seen, was pinned in the corner of garbage disposal and the adjacent brick wall. The man who menacingly leaned over her frame didn't appear to be strongly muscled, but that didn't affect the fact that he was a Strigoi, who were awakened with unfaltering strength. I was a hard-trained dhampir Guardian, who lived to be strong to guard Moroi lives. That was why I had been so deadly and dangerous as a Strigoi.

With acute gracefulness that I had learnt beside my combat training and experience, I stalked down the thin alleyway, my fists clenching at the sight of a Strigoi attacking an innocent. Like I had done during my time as Strigoi, a voice sang in my head tauntingly.

"You let her go, you insolent swine!" The Strigoi thundered. I tensed my muscles and my roughly callous hand landed violently on the Strigoi's shoulder and I tore him from the defenceless girl before his clenched fist hit her.

"Get away from her," I roared viciously in my native Russian tongue and uptilted my knee to my chest, and hooked my forearm around his neck before slamming his nose into my knee. The snowflakes crisply fell onto my duster and sprinkled my shoulder-length chocolate brown hair, which was knotted in a ponytail at the nape of my neck, before the flakes melted.

I managed to stay emotionless as the undead man just chuckled, shrugging off the pain of my swift attack.

"You should be more observant, Guardian," the Strigoi chuckled again, his crimson red ringed pupils blazing with cruel humour.

Before I could analyse his words, a shuddering impact slammed into my lower back, and I stumbled in shock, before I swung around, thinly dodging a swinging fist.

It was the girl, the victim I had just rescued from the wrath of the Strigoi. She wasn't human, she was _Strigoi_. There was no mistaking the coldly cerise ringed eyes and the chalky pale complexion glowed frighteningly under the dim moonlight.

I didn't spare a second in swinging my own fist around and slamming it into her face without flinching. She wasn't an innocent girl to protect – she was the enemy. Either both of these Strigoi were human or Moroi, because their fighting abilities definitely weren't sharp enough to be a dhampir's, and their technique was non-existence. They just wanted to kill, and with their brute strength, fighting techniques didn't matter. But that wouldn't be the case during this fight. I knew I could easily take down these two Strigoi without a problem, but there was something holding me back, something I didn't have time to think about.

I had to kill them, they were a threat, and it wasn't a choice to let them go. I knew too much about what they would do if I let them go. I knew their ways – the way they lived and survived. I wouldn't allow it.

I ducked the right hook from the man, and jutted out my elbow while gracefully hooking out my leg and ripping the man off his planted feet with only a grunt escaping my lips. Without blinking, I faced the small girl and fisted the neckline of her shirt, before thrusting her into the stone-hard wall, the impact slamming against her head and making her slip down the wall while she recollected her wits. I spun around again and slammed the surface of my boot into his face as he tried to rise to his feet. He was slammed back down, and he roared threateningly and impatience pulsing around him like an elastic band waiting to snap.

I turned back to the girl, who had shook off her injury quicker than I had first guessed she would, and she was already lunging at me, clinging onto my front and sending me stepping back with ease, keeping my stance strong. Her haunting eyes pierced me fiercely, and her head flew towards mine, and slammed into my front lobe of my forehead. It throbs achingly, but I didn't falter, and I tore her from my body and threw her against the garbage disposal. She snarled sadistically, and she sprung towards me again. I knocked her to the side, stepping fluidly with the movement and making sure she slammed into the cracked concrete ground. She growled haughtily, and crouched lowly, watching me.

Suddenly her eyes flickered behind me, and I dared to glance over my shoulder expecting to see nothing but the male Strigoi ready to attempt to kill me. He wasn't thought, and my eyes travelled down the alley where I only saw the wisps of his russet hair disappear around the corner of the alley. I clenched my jaw and my eyes darted back to the Strigoi girl in front of me, who still held a fiery expression in place as she stared back at me, her red ringed pupils challenging me. She was a tiny girl, really, and against my better judgement, there was a pang in my heart as I realized she could be no older than sixteen. I'd never seen a Strigoi so young before, and I really hope it wasn't going to become a trend among the sick-minded undead. She had knotty curls down to her hips, but her mane wasn't brushed and grimy with oil. She hadn't showered for a few days.

Her eyes flickered for a fraction of a second, and then she leapt past me, her intentions to follow after the other Strigoi, no doubt. But I reached out, and caught her tiny waist in a blur, pinning her straining body in my arms.

"Let me go," she seethed, her eyes vehement and venom dripping off her words. Even with her Strigoi strength, she didn't have a hope getting away, and she had already realized that herself. After being restored to my dhampir state, I retained a fraction of my Strigoi strength, which made me very intimidating to the ranking Guardians. I wish I didn't have that abnormal strength, but in times like these, it was useful to have. It was much easier to fight and, in this case, restrain a Strigoi.

My own experiences entirely altered the way I would have normally reacted to this situation. I would've already staked her with the silver stake in my duster coat, and no matter her age, she would be dead and I would have left her body for the Alchemists to deal with. But I could hardly ignore the other options after being restored from my own Strigoi form.

My eyes were soft, despite my expression being hard and stoic. She was only sixteen, I told myself. This wasn't how her life should've gone at all. If she was a human, she could try and fit back into her old life – which I doubted after not being capable of it myself – or she could find a position among the Alchemists, even. If she were a Moroi, she could go back to her family, whom I knew would be balding with worry like any normal parents would. She could find normalcy again, she could be happy. No one deserved to live in the nightmare that was a Strigoi body, especially a young teenage girl.

She could be restored.

I barely hesitated before I adjusted her wrists behind her back and locked my own fingers around them, acting as firm as a shackle. I lowered my lips to her ears.

"If you follow my instructions, you won't get hurt." She stiffened, and hissed. "If you do attempt anything, I will kill you." The threat sounded full and bluntly honest, and the Strigoi girl in my arms tensed further. She definitely wasn't stupid, even if her attacking techniques had been very sloppy and useless, and she knew fully well what I was capable of doing. Killing her would be very simple, she knew, but what she didn't know was that I wouldn't be killing her even if she attempted to run. She was a Strigoi, and I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to escape. She rationally wasn't in control of herself, and once I got her back to Baia, to Oksana, hopefully she would be restored.

I held her securely, and pushed her in front of me down the alley. Just as I stepped out of the swallowing shadows that encased the alley, a familiar, slightly battered from age, car came rolling by hesitantly, and my heart plummeted with nerves.

It was my mama.

I realized how awkward our long-awaited reunion would be when I was prisoning a Strigoi in my arms. My stomach churned, and I prayed that I wouldn't frighten mama away.

My breath caught in my throat, as my mother's familiar frame pushed open the drivers' side door, and she clambered to her feet slowly, her back still facing me. My throat ached sorely with restriction, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to just burst into tears and let my mama hold me and rock me soothingly like she had so many years ago. I didn't want to hide my feelings, I wasn't here as a Guardian – I was here to see my family. But I was too stubborn for my own good, and I blinked away the stinging tears, and my stomach flopped as she turned around, squinting at me curiously.

"Dimka?" she softly called, and her feet slowly took her around the rear of the car, until she was in front of me. My lower lip trembled and my expression slackened from its stoic mask, my eyes softening.

"Mama," I breathed. The chocolate brown locks I had inherited were framing her bronzed face. Glistening with wet tears, her brown eyes looked at me with overwhelming emotions. She trembled as she stepped towards me, and reached up, touching my face and tracing my sharp features. I looked down at her, my nostrils flaring as I fought away the tears that sprung in my eyes. Her fingertips ran along my cheekbones, before she rested her palms above my jaw. I could feel her hands shaking against my skin, and I reached up and swallowed her cupping hand with my own, and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes.

"Dimka, my baby," she whispered thickly in Russian, "I've missed you so much." She wrapped her arms around my torso, and I heard her inhale deeply as her face buried in my duster.

"I missed you too, Mama. I'm sorry for everything." My eyes glowed as I gazed at her, trying to show her how much I hated what I'd done to her. I'd put her and the rest of my family through hell, and she didn't deserve a moment of it. We always had a special bond, and I was one hundred per cent a mama's boy, being her only son.

"Dimka," she shakily hesitated, "why are you holding a Strigoi?" I sucked in a breath between my teeth, opening my mouth eventually while mama peered up at me with caution.

"Mama, I didn't know what else to do," I confessed truthfully, "she can be restored, like I was. She's young, mama." Mama examined my face, which I struggled to compose and keep stoic. No matter how much I would like to break down and just cry and have my mama tell me everything was alright, my own mind wouldn't allow it. I was the man of the family, I was supposed to be the strong one. I held the same position in my family as I did in the Guardian ranks. I had to be emotionless and strong. It's how I'd grown up. I didn't think it was going to change after so many years.

Mama parted her lips, like she was about to protest, but then she thought better of it, and nodded with her lips pressed together tightly. "If you're sure, Dimka," she softly replied. I nodded gratefully and tightened my slightly slackened grip on the Strigoi's wrists. She hissed venomously, and mama took a sharp intake of breath as she backed. "Where are we putting her?"

I took a moment to think through my options, before deciding placing her in the trunk of the car might be best. She would probably start hitting and trying to damage the trunk, but it would be safer than the backseat. I didn't want mama in any danger. I wasn't entirely sure she would feel comfortable with a Strigoi sitting behind her either.

Mama popped the trunk and I craned my neck down, so my lips were threateningly close to her face. "Do not try anything – you're aware of what I'm capable of doing to you if you attempt to escape."

I considered myself quite lucky that this young Strigoi was very intellectual and logical. If she hadn't been, she would be acting very brash and would have already made an effort to escape. But I think she realized it would be better to plan a proper escape plan one we arrived to our destination, or even plan whilst she was in the trunk of the car. Either one suited me perfectly, because she wouldn't be escaping one we arrived in Baia, I was confident.

Mama lingered by my side as I slid the Strigoi girl in the trunk, and I could sense she felt obligated to help in some way. I glanced at her and offered a taut smile, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"It's okay, Mama, just get in the car."

Her warm brown eyes flickered from the Strigoi then to my face. She nodded silently, and complied.

I blew out an uneven breath once she had shut the car door, and spared the Strigoi one last fleeting look before I slammed the trunk shut, and stilled for several moments, my fingers gripping the smooth paintjob.

It was going to be fine, I chastised myself, brushing away my worries about the upcoming reunion with the rest of my family. It was going to be great, even. Why wasn't I more enthusiastic about reconciling with my sisters? Why couldn't I just simply be grateful that I even had this opportunity? If it wasn't for Rose, and Vasilisa, I would still be burdened as a Strigoi, feeding off innocent lives. But I was here, I was dhampir again and I was seeing my family after such a long period.

I shook my head, hoping to discourage my thoughts, and I swept over to the alleyway, where I had previously dropped my ragged duffle bag before charging towards the two Strigoi that were violently arguing in the alley. I opened the passenger door and slid in, shoving the bag at my feet and closing the door.

"How-how is everyone?" I hesitantly asked, peering at my mother who tightened her fingers around the steering wheel as she blinked away hot tears. She sent me a small smile, one which was unconvincing.

"Good. Karolina and Sonya went to pick up Viktoria from school so she could see you." She glanced at me, and examined me with her soft, motherly eyes. "They're very excited to see you again, Dimka. Sonya had her baby last month – Valeriya, she called her. It's definitely quite loud at the moment," mama chuckled fondly.

I smiled. I bet it was hectic in the cosy Belikov home. Three children and five women under the same roof.

"What else has happened while I was, uh, gone?" I grimaced at accidently bringing it up and mama flinched, the reaction barely noticeable. Though with my acute senses, I picked it up.

Mama launched into the tales of the Belikov family, as well as the happenings of townsfolk. Viktoria had started dating her close friend, Nikolai, and they were happily spending every moment together, from what Viktoria had said from school during a phone call. Karolina had also met a Moroi man, Andrick, and the two had been steadily dating for several months. Karolina had mentioned that if they were still together in a few months, they were possibly going to purchase a home together so they could have their own space with Paul and Zoya. Sonya had her hands full with Valeriya, as well as her job at the pharmacy, and she hadn't met a man who caught her attention. Nanna Yeva was still kicking around with her crazy muttering, but it had gotten worse since I had last been in her company, mama informed me sadly, and she was slowly becoming more unaware of reality.

The townsfolk, mama said, had been very celebratory once they heard about my restoration, and threw a party in my honour, which was flattering. Apparently, not only my family were eager to see me, but the rest of the town was as well. Many people had been approaching mama and asking curious questions about me, but it gradually died down.

"What about Oksana and Mark?" I asked interestedly. I was on good terms with the couple, but since becoming aware of their bond and Oksana being a spirit user, I was curious to know how the couple were going. They'd also become good friends with Rose while she visited Baia during her hunt for me whilst I was Strigoi.

Mama smiled happily as she thought of the couple, "they're great. They've been trying for a baby recently, Oksana told me, so they're very excited to finally start their own family." I smiled and made a mental note of it – Rose would be ecstatic with the news, after growing attached to the couple.

"Dimka," mama chewed her curling lips, as her eyes sparkled, "how's Rose?"

I blinked. The question surprised me; even though I was aware she had grown quite fond of Rose, and already thought of her as a forth daughter. It was strange that my family already knew and loved Rose, even though I never had the chance to properly introduce them to each other. It was something I would always feel guilty about, I suppose. I wish I was there to watch my family fall in love with Rose as I knew they would've.

"She's good." Despite myself, an affectionate grin grew on my lips as I thought of Rose, and how incredibly great everything had been going between us. Even after I nearly killed her as a Strigoi, and tore her heart up, she still managed to love me – something that I would forever be in awe of and appreciative for. I didn't deserve her, not in a million years.

Mama chuckled. "Oh, Dimka, you two are so perfect for each other. I wish she could've come with you – everyone misses her."

I chuckled, smiling lovingly.

"I'm sure they do."

There was a pregnant pause, and I could tell something was itching at mama, something that she wanted to say, but the air around her was thick with hesitancy.

"What is it, mama?"

She gazed at me guilty, flickering her blinkers and turning the corner as the city began calming and becoming deserted land. "How…" she took a deep breath, grimacing before pushing on, "How do you restore a Strigoi?" her voice was warm and soft, like it had always been, but the question made me cringe, nevertheless.

"You have to be stabbed with a charmed stake by a spirit user," I explained, my voice automatically slipping back into its stoic state. I shook it off, scolding myself. This was my mama – I didn't have to hide from her.

I watched my mama as she absorbed the information, and her eyes flickered with a bout of sickened emotions, before her brows creased together.

"A spirit user?" she repeated questioningly. "Dimka, why are you bringing this Strigoi girl to Baia – there isn't a spirit user that I'm aware of." I was marginally surprised by her words. I'd assumed her and Oksana were reasonably good friends, so I assumed Oksana had told mama she was a spirit user, and she was bonded with her husband, Mark. Rose had mentioned to me that Oksana had been very shocked when Rose questioned her on being a spirit user, so it was entirely possible that Oksana had kept her elemental magic private. It still wasn't a completely acceptable element in the vampiric world, and many people didn't understand it very well at all, so Oksana had probably gotten used to withholding that information.

"Mama, Oksana is a spirit user," I gently responded. I hoped Oksana wouldn't be bothered by my telling mama about her.

Mama blanched in shock, and her mouth fell open. "_Oksana_?" She questioned. "Really? She never said anything…" She trailed off, hurt by the fact Oksana didn't tell her something like that.

I touched her upper arm reassuringly. "She'd kept it a secret since she realized – from everyone."

As we drove closer and closer to the location of Baia, I noticed that the young Strigoi had barely made a noise in the trunk, and I hadn't heard any vicious banging to escape. It made me curious as to what was going on in her mind. It wasn't often that Strigoi stayed still for very long, so she was probably going to be very restless and… _hungry_ by the time we arrived in Baia.

There wasn't one awkward moment that slipped in during the drive, and it was very relieving and comforting. Even throughout the stretched out silent moments during the ride, it was comfortable and content. I was simply basking in the warm security of my mama. I'd gone too long without this – and I was determined not to allow so much time pass until I visited my family again. I would somehow make it work. I needed my family; I needed the warmth they brought me. I loved Rose, very much, but having my family and my childhood with me was a feeling that I glorified. I had only see my mama, not even the rest of my family, but just sitting in a car with her resurfaced fond memories of my past, and it made me realize just how much I missed being back in Russia – although, my last visit to my native country had been while I was Strigoi. When I was with rose, I could just relax and be myself, and not hide who I was. But being back in Russia, it was very similar, but still different from when I was with Rose.

I hoped the rest of my family accepted me and my past as incredibly as my mama had, even if I knew I didn't really deserve it. I had killed many people, and it didn't leave very much to the imagination. I wondered if they could even be in the same room with me without thinking of me killing people, of _killing_ _them_.

Maybe that's what I was truly afraid of – my own sisters being petrified that I would hurt them. I don't think I could live with that at all, and it made me send a fleeting prayer to God, hoping he would take pity on my situation. I didn't want my own family to be scared of me.

Passing by the first cluster of houses of Baia made my heart skip a nervous beat. My mind raced wildly while I thought of all the circumstances that I could find myself in. Terrified townsfolk running from me, screaming. Childhood friends no longer able to look me in the eye. People discreetly following me, hoping to catch me falter and make a mistake. I found myself actually frightening my own mind with all these bombarding ideas.

"Home sweet home," mama softly announced, and peeked at me tactfully. "Don't be nervous, Dimka. Everything will be fine."

I only nodded, and busied myself with studying every house and structure we passed by. I named the residents of each home, recognized the people on the streets, and drank in every detail of my home town. Restoring to being dhampir had given me an appreciative view on the world, on every detail. I saw everything from a new perspective after being Strigoi, everything was different. I gazed at corner street signs and noticed that we were nearing my childhood house. I opened my mouth.

"Mama, can we please go to Mark and Oksana's first? I need to…" I trailed off, gesturing to the back of the car, where the Strigoi girl had yet to make a sound. What if she'd already escaped long ago somehow?

"Of course," she smiled, and then hesitated unsurely. "Are you sure Oksana will be capable of doing what you're asking of her?" I hoped so, I thought to myself.

"Hopefully," I spoke my thoughts.

Mama turned down another road, and began driving away from the route to home, and towards Oksana and Mark's house. I swallowed and curled my fist closed in anxiety.

I wasn't only allowing old memories to painfully arise by restoring this young Strigoi, but I was allowing my mama, Oksana and Mark to see what I'd gone through, and how much being a Strigoi really affected me. They would see my most vulnerable side, and I was nervous for their reactions.

I was automatically taking responsibility and care of this unknown Strigoi girl, promising to myself, and mentally to her, that I would guide her through the excruciating experience of being restored to the living, where everything she'd done as a Strigoi would crash down on her. I didn't know if _I_ was ready to face that confrontation again, and bring back those stale memories. I shook away from turmoiling thoughts – my own personal issues didn't matter right now, I needed to help this young girl.

We pulled up in the short driveway of Mark and Oksana's home, and it the sun had begun rising, which was a very good thing. With the daylight, the Strigoi wouldn't be capable of escaping once she was safely inside the house. And by the time it was nightfall, she would hopefully be back in her original state, whether it was Moroi or human.

I took a deep breath and climbed out the car, pleasurably stretching out and cracking stiff bones while I carried myself around to the rear of the car, and popped the trunk. The young Strigoi was curled up in the dark abyss of the trunk, and as soon as the sunlight hit her, she hissed viciously and scooted into the shadow of the trunk. I glanced at mama, who was lingering next to the drivers' side, watching me intently.

"Can you please go in and get a blanket, mama?"

She jerked her head in a nod and hurried inside the house, disappearing from my vision. I lowered the lid of the trunk, and cut off the light that had pooled inside. I took a deep inhale, breathing in the scented air of Baia. It definitely was nice to be back home. I smiled softly to myself, just as mama reached the car again, a thick woollen blanket in her grasp, and also a curious man in her wake. I looked at Mark and smiled, nodding in greeting.

"It's nice to see you again, Mark," I politely said, masking the nervousness that crept up on me. It was definitely not only strange for me, but for everyone else, when I saw them after being restored. It was something everyone had to get used to, not just me.

Mark smiled kindly, "of course, Dimitri. It's a pleasure to see you again." He opened his mouth as his brows creased together warily. "Now what is this issue Olena told me of?"

I took a deep breath, and clenched my jaw tightly as I reopened the trunk, and revealed the restless Strigoi to Mark.

"I need Oksana to restore her," I simply said.

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**First chapter! :D How did you like it? Is there anything specific I need to improve on, anything I'm lacking in my writing? Any sort of feedback would be fantastic; I would love to see if you like it! The next chapter won't be far off, I hope. Thanks for reading, guys! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter: DONE! :D I hope you all enjoy, and give me feedback or some sign that you like my story! It would really mean the world to me. :)**

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"Dimitri, I don't think you're requesting of my wife," Mark stressed, thumbing the handle of his coffee mug as we sat at his dining table quietly. Mama was abnormally silent, keeping her thoughts and emotions bottled up, which was unusual for her. She was always quite outgoing with how she was feeling, and it really bothered me that she was hiding what she was feeling. Was she afraid of me now?

Maybe she was just too afraid of the Strigoi to say much of anything.

Mark had assisted me in binding the young Strigoi firmly, and had left her in their basement, where she could still be faintly heard hissing and growling venomously. She was getting very restless, especially with the lack of blood she was receiving. As a former Strigoi, I was uncomfortably aware of how often they drank and satisfied an inkling of thirst. This Strigoi girl wouldn't be any different, and she was certainly maliciously impatient to sink her fangs into the nearest vein.

When Mark had guided us to the dining table, and began preparing mugs of coffee, he explained quietly that Oksana had resigned to bed early, tired. It was about an hour before we arrived, Mark informed us, when she had gone to bed.

"I do understand," I replied, and inhaled deeply, before exhaling. "Mark, you're aware that I've been restored, myself, and I admit that the process had exhausted Queen Vasilisa – the one who restored me – but I couldn't let myself allow a Strigoi as young as she to continue living like that. She barely seems sixteen, Mark, she doesn't deserve this."

Mark sighed, rubbing his face warily. "I'm not saying she does, Dimitri – no one deserves that. But putting that sort of pressure and strain on my wife's magic is dangerous, and I don't want her to exert herself. It's a lot of magic to wield."

"I know it's selfish of me, Mark, to ask this of Oksana, but _that_," I gestured to the basement door, "used to be _me_. I won't allow a… _child_ to go through what I did."

Mark clenched his jaw, and his emotions wavered visibly in his tiredly drooped eyes.

"I really want to help you, Dimitri, please understand that, but Oksana's magic hasn't been as strong as usual lately. I _can't_ endanger her like that."

Silence fell upon us, and my shoulders sagged in resignation. I wasn't going to push this any further. He had all the right to refuse, to decline to help me. But it only made me horrified of what I would have to do now. I wasn't sure taking her back to the Royal Court would be _any_ option, so I would have no better choice than to stake her, unless I could find another spirit user in Russia.

"I'll do it."

All three of our heads jerked towards the archway of the hallway, our eyes widened in surprise. Oksana stood there, faintly embarrassed as she tightened her robe around her bodice. Her eyes blazed with determination, a determination to help and aid. It was a force to be reckoned with – a sort of determination I'd seen in Vasilisa when she stubbornly said she'd heal the injured, no matter how exhausted and tired she was.

"Oksana," Mark started standing, looking drained as he began to convince his wife to change her mind.

But as I'd seen in Vasilisa in the past, it was a force to be reckoned with. Oksana wanted to help, and as much as Mark despised it, he wouldn't be able to change her mind. I think he already realized that straight after she said it.

"No, Mark, do you really think I'm going to allow a child to suffer in that way? Just because I've been magically… _tender_ lately doesn't mean I'm disabled. I can still help."

I observed the couple silently, and studied Mark as his face crumpled in defeat. He appeared much too fatigued to even begin arguing with his wife. He gave one small nod of his head, letting her know he clearly didn't support this decision of hers. Oksana just looked away, and her eyes found me. I watched the fierce glow in her orbs and nodded appreciatively at her offer. It definitely would be strenuous on her, like it had been on Vasilisa, and this was the only moment when I would ever allow myself to put a Moroi in danger like that. This would be the only time I ask something like this of a Moroi – my job was to protect them, not injure them.

"What do I do?" she asked me clearly, standing straight and confident.

I paused before answering, "you need to infuse a stake with spirit," I explained, "and then stab the Strigoi."

Oksana was silent for only a split second, and she jerked her head in a nod.

"Do you have the stake?" She asked me positively, her chin held tall. I fished my fingers inside my duster, and thumbed out the silver stake. I handed it over to Oksana hesitantly.

"Are you sure about this, Oksana? Please don't feel pressured to exert your magic," I told her. She gave me the ghost of a teasing smile.

"Too late," she replied, and winked, "don't worry, I'll be fine. I've had a lot of practise with infusing magic." I mulled over her words in my head, before nodding. Oksana stretched over to Mark and pressed her lips to his cheek. "I'll be fine," she repeated to him, sincerity blooming in her eyes.

Oksana looked at me once more before she excused herself to her bedroom for privacy and concentration to wield her magic. As Mark retook his seat, I located my cell phone from my pockets, and dialled Sonya's number. I pressed the device to my ear while harsh ringing tones loudly hit my eardrum. I stepped away from the table and allowed myself some personal space as the other line was interrupted with an answer.

"Hello?" Sonya's friendly voice spoke through the phone speaker, and I smiled slightly.

"Sonya, hello," I paused, "it's Dimitri."

She chuckled on the other end in amusement. "I know, Dimitri – I have caller I.D." I blinked; of course she did. I was terrible with gadgets and devices, a cell phone was the only exception, and I could barely handle that.

"I just wanted to tell you that I have a young Strigoi – sixteen years old at the most – and I'm at Oksana and Mark's house. Oksana's going to restore her."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and a stretched out pause.

"Do you want me to fly over or something, Dimitri? Or I could get Adrian to go – he doesn't have much else to do right now."

I shook my head, although she couldn't see the reaction. "No, no, stay there. I'll figure out something while I'm here, then I'll bring her back with me – actually, it depends if she has family."

Sonya audibly swallowed nervously. "If you're sure, Dimitri. Just keep her safe, and please ring me after she wakes up from her restoration."

"Of course, Sonya. Oh, could you please pass it on to Rose, and the others?"

"Consider it done," I heard the smile in her voice, "Goodbye, Dimitri."

"Bye."

Mama and Mark were both watching me subtly while I conversed on the phone, curiously peaked in their expressions as I seated myself at the table once again.

"Who's Sonya?" Mama softly asked me, saving Mark the breath of asking the question.

"Sonya Karp, another-"

"Restored Strigoi," Mark breathed, interrupting, "a spirit user as well, if I'm correct?"

I blinked, and slowly nodded. "Sonya and I have been researching and digging up information on spirit users and how they can effectively restore Strigoi."

Mark quirked a brow in interest. "Oh? How's it been going?"

I smiled humbly, "quite well. We've just been gathering information and conducting experiments, and we'll start reviewing the results when I return to the Royal Court. The experiments have mainly been based on aura-reading, using different responsive ways to find differences between spirit users and other beings. We've done several blood tests, but they'll need to be further studied for smaller details." I openly explained the research myself and Sonya had conducted, with the helping hand of Adrian Ivashkov, Eddie Castile, and several others who voluntarily took part in our experiments.

"It's done," Oksana announced, standing in the exact spot she had not long ago. She grasped the stake, and she looked exhausted, after draining herself of magic and energy.

"That's the hard part," I assured her gently, "now you need to stake the Strigoi." My eyes flickered to Mark and I silently sent a mental message, hoping he understood what I was asking.

He only took a short moment before he nodded. "I've taught her how to protect herself – staking included."

That was definitely reassuring. Even Vasilisa had gotten herself trained to the best of her ability so that she would have the strength to stake me. I didn't know how well this would've gone if Oksana lacked completely in the ability to properly stake a Strigoi, directly piercing the heart. Oksana took a deep breath.

"Can we go now?" She asked lightly, chewing her lip in turmoil. I nodded and stood, before glancing over to my mama.

"Mama," I softly said, "you can stay here if you like – you don't need to watch it."

But she adamantly shook her head, gazing into my eyes fiercely. "No, Dimka, I have to see… I have to know what you went through, so I can understand." Tears welled in her eyes and she batted them away hastily.

"Are you sure, mama?" I doubtfully asked. Truthfully, I was afraid. I was scared she would see everything unfold, and then finally realize how much of a monster I truly was. I'd been in the exact same position as this stranger Strigoi – what would stop mama's mind from exploring thoughts of me being Strigoi? She would have an insight to how I had lived for those several months, and I was afraid I would feel vulnerable with her having that knowledge. I don't know if I could stand my own mama being terrified of me.

Mama just looked at me, a reaction unneeded as she stepped away from her chair. I sighed, and began leading the other three down into the basement, where the Strigoi was bound in the middle of the room. As soon as her red eyes laid on us, she roared, and rocked violently in her bound position. She was heavily tied to a sturdy post in the centre of the basement, and the chains that were excessively wrapped around her rattled consistently as she squirmed and growled as I stepped near. I clenched my jaw, and stepped within arm's reach of her. I adjusted the chains around her chest, leaving a clear space for Oksana to stake. I then took my stance behind the young Strigoi, and I tensed my arms as I grabbed her head from behind and held it firmly against the post, so she wouldn't try and snap at Oksana. Now she was completely harmless and had no way of attacking Oksana or anyone in the room, I nodded to Oksana.

"Mark, be ready to help me untie these chains once she's changed. Mama, will you be able to take Oksana to bed to rest once she's staked her?" Mama shrewdly nodded, her eyes settled on the scene before her. She stayed at the base of the stairs, and Mark was a few steps closer, his eyes pulsing with protectiveness and tension while his wife was stood inches from a Strigoi's dangerous fangs.

"What are you doing?" The Strigoi hissed coldly. "There's no way you brought me here just to kill me."

"I'm going to help you," Oksana whispered, ignoring the Strigoi's previous words. Oksana's eyes brimmed with tears as she raised the stake against her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Oksana didn't hesitated, and immediately twisted through with her movement, and plunged the stake into the Strigoi's chest, grunting as she manoeuvred the silver stake through muscles and ribs. The Strigoi roared loudly, and she attempted to jerk and snap her head from her secure hold.

Oksana's face was scrunched up in concentration and determination, and she grunted once more as she threw her entire weight behind the stake and pierced the girl's heart.

The most pure, blinding white light burst from the Strigoi's chest as she screamed out in agony. The powerful magic vibrated through my hands which were still grasping her face, and my entire body swelled with spirit magic.

Oksana cried out and stumbled backwards in exhaustion. Mama caught her and carefully lowered the overwhelmed Moroi onto the cement flooring, resting her head in her lap. Mark's jaw was slackened with shock and awe, and the light disappeared from the dim basement, leaving behind a mortal unconscious girl.

I swiftly released her head from my clammy hands and quickly began loosening the chains, unwrapping them from her body. Mark appeared by my side, fumbling with wonder clear in his actions. As the last of the chains fell from the girl's body, I caught her falling, frail figure, and scooped her graciously into my arms.

"I…" Mama wordlessly breathed, looking up at me from her sprawled spot on the ground as she held Oksana. I tried to give a small smile, but I wasn't entirely sure if was delivered with pain inflicted in it. I surpassed by mama, and carried the unconscious girl up into the living room, where I carefully laid her on the cushioned sofa. I arranged a few cushions underneath her head supportively, and used the blanket I'd previously utilized by transferring her from the car boot to inside the home. I spread it over her body, making sure she would be warm.

The winter air still wisped from outside, and the heaters couldn't entirely battle the chilly air.

My eyes fell upon the girl's face as everything from the past few minutes crashed down on me. I hadn't just simply gotten a girl restored from being Strigoi, but I had bestowed agonizing nightmares and a guilt-ridden future upon her, something I would eternally feel remorseful for. She would deal with the same problems I had, the same thoughts and self-pity that I drowned in. She wouldn't be an innocent, clueless teenager girl, no matter what I'd previously hoped of for her. She would think of her victims every day, and her heart would ache with guilt. In the back of her mind, every normal conversation would seem trivial, meaningless after everything she'd been through. She would suffer the same life I do.

But, it was the price I paid to be dhampir again. I would rather life with this pain and regret over my past, than continue to ruthlessly murder innocents every day. Sometimes I lost sight of that, but I hoped this girl wouldn't. She was mortal again – at least that was something to be grateful again. But there was something telling me resolutely that this girl wouldn't forget that, and she wouldn't ever overlook the fact that she had many things to be thankful for.

I carefully sat on the sturdy coffee table in front of the slumbering girl, and began inspecting her features.

It didn't take a genius to realize she was a Moroi. Her delicate and, if I dare say so, _cute_ features were absent of blemishes, and her slim pale frame was trademark of Moroi. I hadn't gotten a chance to see her real eye colour, and it would be slightly intrusive if I peeled her eyelid back so I could have a curious peek. That thought was scandalizing. She was short, though, very small for the size of other Moroi her age. She was very beautiful, like all Moroi, but her beauty was definitely better described as adorableness. She still had ghosts of baby fat on her rosy cheeks, and her features were childlike and curious, even when she was unconscious. Her hair, a feature that would be the picture of gorgeousness when she had a shower, was in bouncy curls down to her hips, and the rich chocolate brown colour was somewhat contradicted by dirt and grime.

"She's adorable." I glanced up in surprise, and saw my mother standing at the arm of the couch, and her lips were tugged in a small wounded smile. She was thinking about me as Strigoi, I thought to myself, and internally flinched. I hoped this wasn't one of my nightmares unfolding in reality.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," I apologized hollowly, breathing in deeply. She just smiled again, shaking her head and looking down at the still form of the girl.

"Don't apologize, Dimka," she warmly replied, "it's not your fault – none of it." There were many things I wanted to respond with, but I just stayed silent, looking back to the girl.

I didn't even know her name yet, but I was strangely protective of her. Afterall, I thought logically, I was responsible for everything that had happened to in the last few hours, and her being restored to her Moroi form was a huge deal. She was my obligation, my responsibility I had to take care of. Even though she hadn't woken up, we were deeply bonded in a way no one else would understand, other than Sonya. We were all in the same boat, with the same issues and the same heartaches. We were in this together.

"Dimka… I think she should come home with us," mama softly informed me, "Until we can get a hold of any possibly family members. We can work out a sleeping arrangement, and I'm sure your sisters will welcome her easily. If she doesn't have any family or any home to go to, we can figure out a living arrangement, whether she goes back to America with you, or she stays here in Baia and goes to St. Basils with Viktoria."

I was quiet as I analysed my mama's words, seeing very logical reasoning behind her words. Maybe it would be best if she stayed here and went to school with Vika… That is, if she didn't have any family to go to, which was quite unlikely. She must have some family, whether it were parents or aunts and uncles. My heart sunk sourly. I had been stupidly thinking this girl didn't have family and a home to return to. She wouldn't be around for long, and for some reason, that twisted my heart. I hadn't even had a civilised conversation, let alone known her name, and I was already attached to the unexplainable quality of this girl. What made her special? Why did I care so much about her in such little time?

"Thank you, mama." I didn't need to further explain how much I appreciated what she'd already done. I'm sure this wasn't the reunion she had been hoping for, and she'd been imagining something happier like I had been. I had soured the mood, a mood which was supposed to be cheerful and carefree as I surrounded myself with my family and cherished every moment. Restoring a Strigoi on a whim hadn't been what I was thinking of in the least.

I looked up, and noticed Mark had appeared behind mama, and I gradually stood up, stealing a glance at the unaware girl on the couch.

"Mark, I just want to tell you how much what you and your wife have done. I appreciate it greatly, and if you want anything in return, please tell me." He gave me a wearied smile, and nodded. "I'll leave you be, but I'll come back to thank Oksana personally."

Mark chuckled. "Of course, Dimitri. I'm interested to hear how this young one goes. If you need any more help, Dimitri, please don't be so humble to not ask." I nodded with a smile.

I bundled the girl up in the blanket comfortably and carried her in my arms outside. I laid her down in the backseat, and decided it would be more comfortable if I was to sit in the backseat with her, and rest her head on my lap. I shook Mark's hand respectively before climbing in the car and making the girl comfortable on my lap. Mama said a few last words to Mark, before she began backing out of the drive, and we started driving home.

It was almost like I had been evading it – going home. The rest of my family would be, no doubt, all home and waiting for me. That was definitely nerve wrecking.

The drive was comfortably silent, and my mama appeared to be in deep thought as she drove, just as I was. I looked down at the girl in my arms, and pondered how on earth had my whole visit to Russia had completely flipped over. I was hoping to try and heal my fresh wounds from being a Strigoi, not refresh them by bringing a restored Moroi home with me.

"Home sweet home," Mama announced, repeating her words from earlier when we first arrived in Baia, and she unbuckled her seatbelt, glancing back at me. "I'll take your bag," she offered warmly, and reached over to grab my duffle bag that was sitting on the floor of the passenger seat.

I hesitated, peering out the window at the very familiar, welcoming home. It definitely hadn't changed much since I'd last been here, and that was nice. I was very fond of my childhood home, and I liked everything the same way as it had been when I was born. It made the aged house much more memorable and special to me.

It appeared to big quite roomy, but it still looked cosy and quite normal for a large family. There was a big backyard, hidden by the lining rose bushes and other shrubs. The wooden fence sat at the front of the yard, accompanied by moderately sized trees. I smiled wistfully. _Home sweet home_. I pushed open the car door, and easily picked up the featherweight girl in my arms, holding the woolly blanket around her warmly. I certainly didn't want her falling ill with hypothermia.

I drew my foot off the ground and encouraged the door shut with the sole of my boot, before I swiftly followed mama through the open front door, entering the living room. I habitually inhaled the indescribable scent of home, one which I didn't realize how much I had missed until it hit my nostrils.

I had slowed at the threshold, taking in the living room with sharp eyes. Nothing had changed; I thought fondly, not one thing. It still had a comforting and homey glow, one which soaked in my pores welcomingly.

"I'll put her in my bedroom," I quietly told mama, who was readjusting the crinkled blanket that was slung over the couch. "I can sleep on the couch."

Mama smiled widely, shaking her head wistfully, "Ever the generous one." A smile pulled at my lips as I carefully carried the delicate girl in my arms, somehow thinking I was going to break her if I moved too sudden. She looked so childlike and blissfully innocent as she slept, a barely noticeable smile even laid peacefully on her lips.

I reached the top of the staircase, and used the very memorably familiar route to my bedroom. My breath hitched for an unknown reason as I pushed open the ajar door, and took in the room. My bed was neatly made, my desk had several western novels stacked neatly in the corner. I closed my eyes fleetingly. Nothing had changed. Not at all. Everything was in the way I'd left it, and I almost felt like everything that had happened in the last several months was just a very detailed dream – or nightmare. It was like I'd never even left Russia.

I swallowed, a serene smile dancing on my lips freely, and I stepped in my bedroom, walking over to my bed and holding the girl carefully while I pulled the blankets back, loosening the tightly tucked sheets from underneath the mattress, before I prudently placed the girl down, deciding to keep the woolly blanket over her, and simply adjusting it under the sheets, before I pulled the covers up to her chest. She didn't move at all, and her tiny smile was still in place as she slept. She was safe from nightmares for today, I thought sadly, but they would find her when she slept next. The overwhelming magic that had induced her overran any nightmares of dreams. She was simply peaceful.

I wish it would stay that way for her. I didn't want her to suffer in similar ways that I did. She was tenderly young – she had a future ahead of her.

I regarded the girl for several more quiet seconds, before I stepped away and unobtrusively shut the door behind me, before I made my way downstairs.

"Mama," I called, "is there any-"

"Dimka!" A voice burst shockingly loud, and suddenly I was the target of a female's affection, as she threw her arms around me and tightly gripped me. My lips parted in surprise, and I blinked before I responded to the abrupt attack, wrapping my arms around the female.

"Hello, Vika," I smiled fondly, and as she reluctantly pulled away from the embrace, she smiled up at me with teary happiness.

"You have no idea how happy I am to have you back," she whispered. "All of us are," she corrected herself. I felt my throat restrict with rising emotion, and I blinked away the hot tears as I smiled at my youngest sister.

"I'm glad to be back," I replied truthfully. It was only a split second, and I realized that I really was, and all my worries and concerns somehow vanished. For some reason, I was no longer stressed wondering if my family would accept me again.

"Share him, will you?" A sharp voice broke through, and my heart spun erratically with joy as I peered over Viktoria's head, and I saw Karolina's teasing smile as she gazed back at me.

"It's nice to see you, little brother," she stated, and we embraced tightly, before she pressed her lips to my cheek and stepped back, allowing my last sister to respective reconcile with me. My eyes easily found Sonya, who was looking at me with her eyes full of unshed tears.

"Oh, Dimka!" She let out a sob as she ran into my arms, burying her face in my chest. My lips twitched in amusement, and I wrapped my arms around her gladly. It took Sonya several minutes to finally contain her hormonal emotions, and she hastily wiped her tear-stained cheeks with a sheepish smile. "It's great to see you again."

Behind her, Karolina snickered in delight. "Don't mind Sonya, Dimka – she's still having bouts of overwhelming hormones after having Valeriya." Viktoria burst into giggles, and Sonya just threw her sister a dirty look.

"If I recall correctly, you weren't much different with Paul and Zoya," she pointed out with a raised eyebrow. I happily watched my sisters bicker, and I could hardly describe my elated feelings. Behind Karolina, mama caught my eye and winked mischievously. I chuckled at her, and gazed at my sisters, who seemed gleeful and fierce as they threw insults back and forth.

"Now you're going to have to get used to your sisters' crazy mood swings again, Dimka," mama laughed, while she prepared a late dinner. I smiled widely, never more pleased to be in the company of the female hormones.

"Where's Nanna Yeva?" I asked mama curiously, my eyes following her hands as she gracefully dished out dinner on a handful of plates.

Viktoria appeared beside me, and her face lit up excitedly at the sight of food. "She muttered something about checking on the babies," she informed me, rolling her eyes. "She was watching Karolina like a hawk when she settled Zoya and Valeriya in their cots."

Mama sighed, and I immediately picked up on her concern for Yeva. She had already told me she was getting worse and even though she'd always been crazily muttering and being strange, it was all pretty much incoherent and impossible to understand her anymore. It was like dementia.

"Mama, don't put too much on Paul's plate," Karolina stood by my other side, her eyes glimmering with disapproval. "Viktoria snuck him snacks while we stopped for gas." Viktoria bit her lip, trying not to let her giggles escape, so she ducked her head and scurried away into the living room. I watched after her in amusement, before I turned back to mama, who smiled at me and handed me my plate, which was piled with food, much more so than theirs were.

"Vika!" Mama called to her youngest daughter, "can you please go get Yeva?"

There were the heavy thumping of feet on the stairs, and I took my seat at the head of the table. A smile tugged at my mouth wryly. This had always been my seat at the table, ever since my father had left when I was thirteen. Not wearing the details, I had beat him up in a moment of brash anger after her had abused my mother for so long, and he had left quite shortly afterwards. I then took my place at the head of the dining table, determined to be strong and take care of my family.

Once we were all seated at the table, and after a bout of curious bombarding questions on Paul's part, Vika was guiding Nanna Yeva into the kitchen and towards the dining table.

Yeva looked sharp and as much of a witch as she did the last time I'd seen her, but there was something oddly comforting about her. I'd definitely missed her crazy wisdom and her ironical way of thinking. She paused beside me, and studied me very carefully, before she gave a sardonic smile and took her seat beside mama.

"Mama," I started cautiously, "did you tell them about…?" I gestured upstairs, towards my bedroom. My sisters all looked at me and mama in confusion and Yeva muttered something incoherently, while Paul was too occupied by ploughing his fork deep into his mash potatoes.

Mama blinked and her face fell into an apologetic expression. "Oh, no, I didn't have the chance to."

"What's going on?" Sonya butted in, her curiousness wildly taking place in her eyes and tone as she gazed at me, her eyes joined by my other sisters.

I only paused for a second, before pushing through, "I found a Strigoi girl in Novosibirsk." They all appeared to be trying to understand my words. "I restored her to her Moroi form."

My sisters all stared at me, their jaws slackened in disbelief.

"_What_?"

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**AH! How did you like it? Was it good? Any big mistakes? I know it's been a bit slow, but the Strigoi will wake up in the next chapter... Maybe. ;) The next chapters might be so quickly posted, because I go back to school tomorrow and I won't have all day to laze around and write. But I'll try to at least make the updates within weeks of each other, maybe even four nights apart. I'm not sure, we'll see how it all goes! I'm really excited about this story and all the plans I have for it, so I hope it all goes well. :) Please review, favourite etc. :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Next chapter already! :D Haha I'm really excited with how quickly I'm writing this and how soon I'm going to get to good part of the story, which I can't tell you about :P Read as you please, I hope you enjoy! x**

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I launched in the tale of how I came by the girl, and told them about going to Mark and Oksana's. They al listened intently, their eyes wide.

"So that's how you were restored?" Viktoria breathed in awe.

"Vika!" Mama chastised with narrowed eyes. I shook my head at mama, my lips in a thin smile.

"It's fine, mama." I looked at my sister, who appeared sheepish. "It was how I was restored," I confirmed softly, "Queen Vasilisa staked me and I transferred back to my original state."

Viktoria studied me, and chewed her lips as a question bubbled from her mouth uneasily, "what… what was it like, Dimka?"

"Viktoria!" Mama admonished louder, her voice hilted with anger, "Do _not_ ask that at the dinner table!"

Viktoria looked terribly guilty as she pushed away from the table, offering to take everyone's plates to the sink, and murmuring a sincere apology as she passed me.

I inhaled deeply, and gave her a pained smile. In my moment of faltering weakness, I didn't have the strength to hold a steady stoic gaze. Why did this all have to be so terribly hard? Why couldn't I even discuss my Strigoi life without flinching? It was over, it was in the past, but it still seemed like it was yesterday when I was tearing victims from the streets and draining them of blood. I still felt like a monster. No one understood, except Sonya, and that's why we bonded so well and become so close as friends. We both understood each other's hidden pain and agony. I just wanted to let go of it all, not for my sake, but for Rose. Just as Sonya ached to do for Mikhail. They'd just got married, and Sonya was struggling to keep her past from ruining her happiness with her husband.

Gradually, the family relocated to the lounge room, and I comfortably took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch while Viktoria sat behind me and giggled madly while she attempted the braid my shoulder-length hair. She was in fits of laughter while my sisters and mother happily chatted, and Nanna Yeva rocked in the armchair as she knitted a pair of socks. Paul was on the floor with me, and he asked if I wanted to help him make a train track course. I obliged easily, of course, and he firmly ordered me around, telling me what to do and where to place pieces of the train set.

"So, Dimka," Karolina mischievously began, "when's Rose going to come and visit us again?"

My lips twitched in amusement, and I just shook my head hopelessly at my sisters' antics. "One day," I promised, "she's busy getting used to be the head of the Royal Guard." It was still incredible that Rose had come so far as a Guardian in such little time. As Queen Vasilisa's main Guardian, she was automatically given the title as the Head of Royal Guard. She had panicked at first, having no clue what to do or how to successfully order those around her, especially when they had been a Guardian for several more years than her. But Mikhail had been very helpful, she told me, and he was helping her get the hang of being a Guardian in the Royal Court. A few other experienced Guardians, including some from Tatiana's Guard, were also helping her out. She'd been doing amazing so far, and had settled in happily.

"When are you going start having your own babies?" Sonya questioned intrusively, gesturing to me peacefully playing with Paul. I blinked and opened my mouth speechlessly at her question, and mama was simply watching the interaction with an amused smile on her face.

Of course I'd thought about having children of my own with Rose. I was twenty five now, and I wanted to just settle down and get married and start my own family. But, Rose was only eighteen, and I couldn't expect her to simply give in and get married so soon, let alone have children. We still had many years to start having kids, I knew, and even though I always imaged having a little girl who had the fiery personality of Rose, I would just have to wait until Rose was entirely happy with the idea.

"Rose is eighteen," I reminded my nosy sister, "we won't be having children for a while."

Mama suddenly sighed, and her eyes shone with disappointment. "I just want grandchildren, Dimka," she told me.

I stared at her in shock. "Mama! You have three grandchildren," I responded, scandalized.

"None from my baby boy," she pointed out, and sighed. "I guess I can wait."

I stared at her for at least another few minutes, before I shook it off, trying to forget it. I forgot how nosy my family was; I thought to myself fondly, they were crazy.

The conversation continued to roll along between my family, and once Paul's train track was complete, he excitedly ran the train around the track, his face lit up happily. I leaned back comfortably, Viktoria absentmindedly running her hands through my hair as she talked to the females of my family.

My eyelids began drooping gradually, and a small smile washed onto the shores of my lips as my conscious mind started wavering tiredly. I was here with my family, and so far, not one of my fears had happened. Everything was blissfully great. Everyone was the same, albeit older than the last time I'd seen them, but nevertheless they were the same. Paul had grown so much, and I still was yet to meet Zoya and Valeriya.

I felt my guard drop gently, as sleep grasped me and I fell into an unconscious abyss.

"Dimka," a warm voice called to me gently, and fingertips brushed across my cheek. I squirmed slightly from the tickling hand, and there was a soft laugh. I peeled my eyes open, and stared up at the figure that loomed over me.

"Mama?" I yawned, and rubbed my eyes. "What's wrong?" I took in my makeshift bed, which was the couch. My feet hung over the other end of the couch arm, and a few woolly blankets had been thrown over me, as well as a pillow slipped under my head.

Mama told me, "The, ah, girl is going to wake up soon, I think, I presumed you would want to be there to talk her through everything." She began wandering back in the kitchen when I nodded and began stretching with another yawn. "And yes," she added, "it was like trying to lift a truck when we were putting you on the couch." She grinned, and I laughed, rolling of the couch and folding up the blankets and placing them beside the couch, the pillow sitting atop the pile.

"What's for breakfast?" I smiled, eagerness, no doubt, glazing in my eyes while I approached the kitchen. Mama chuckled affectionately.

"Nothing has changed with you," she muttered, and chuckled again. "Well, I decided to make you some-"

"Bread?" I gasped, and despite my normally stoic demeanour, my eyes widened excitedly.

She gazed at me in amusement, and finally nodded with a smile. "Still as obsessed with that bread," she chuckled again, and placed the freshly baked loaf on the chopping board, before she began cutting several slices for me, and putting them on a plate. I eagerly took the plate of black bread and took a seat at the table, immediately launching a piece of my favourite food into my mouth and devouring the heavenly taste. I definitely missed this, a lot.

Before I even knew it myself, I'd completely finished off my plate of bread, and I frowned slightly.

"You look lost," mama laughed, "you can have some more later." She emphasized on the 'later', making sure I was aware that I wasn't allowed to have finished off the entire loaf within the next hour. I couldn't promise her anything.

"I'm just going to check on her." I didn't need to clarify who 'she' was, and I headed out of the kitchen archway. "Thanks for the black bread, mama," I called appreciatively. She just chuckled faintly in response, and I strode up the stairs towards my room.

Cautiously, I twisted the doorknob and stepped inside my childhood bedroom. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness that cloaked the room, and I peered at the bed, where a small lump was motionlessly sleeping. I carefully moved closer, and decided to get comfortable in the armchair beside the bed. I would wait until she woke up, I decided, it wouldn't be long now.

Her restoration had gone down a different path than Sonya had. I clearly remembered when Sonya was brought back to life, and she had screamed and wailed and cried. She certainly was very loud, and definitely didn't immediately fall unconscious, let alone sleep peacefully. Although, I couldn't closely analyse the difference – they were completely different people, which meant different reactions to certain situations. I recalled when I was restored myself, and I was sure that the first thing I did was break down in tears. Was this girl just exhausted? Was it because she hadn't fed for a while, if my assumptions were correct, and she'd gone without blood for much longer than she was used to. Then from such a magical life-altering burst, she'd just fainted. Considering it, it seemed liable.

I looked around my room, which was filled with an eerie silence, and I, by old habit, reached over to my desk and grasped a western novel. Inspecting it in the darkness, I recognized it as one of the first western novels I'd ever had. My mama had given it to me on my eight birthday, if my memory served. I cautiously flicked on my bedside lamp, hoping it would wake the girl who slept peacefully in my bed. My eyes flickered to the sleeping form, before they settled upon the words of the novel, and I happily lost myself in the imaginary world the story provided.

Minutes dripped by however quickly; I was too absorbed in my novel to check. But when a small noise hit my ears softly, I tore my eyes away from the weathered book, and I regarded the young girl in my bed.

She was waking up.

Her mouth opened delicately, forming a perfect 'o', and she bunched her fists and gradually stretched them out by her sides, as if she was imitating a bird of sorts. Her eyes were still closed, and the covered shuffled as she moved her legs. Her fists, still closed, pushed the blankets down to her waist, and she shifted, marginally uncomfortable in her current position. She yawned sleepily, and in the back of her throat, there was a strange sound as she yawned, one which I'd never heard whilst someone yawned. Her fists reached up and rubbed her still closed eyes, and then she swallowed thickly and shuffled into a sitting position. She yawned once more as she finally peeled her eyes open.

Even under the dull lighting of the lamp, which I'd turned to face the novel in my palms, I could see the shocking colour of her eyes. _They were a pulsating indigo purple_. I'd never, in all my years, seen such an effervescent eye colour. It was truly incredible – _mesmerizing_. They almost glowed in the dark, the energetic colour bright and stood out ridiculously in the admittedly dull coloured bedroom.

Then her indigo violet eyes found me.

She blinked; the movement seemed childlike and lost. Then she squinted, ever so slightly, and I decided to hold of saying anything just yet, while she seemed to be trying to recover her memories and understand what was going on. She was eerily calm so far, and I was truthfully bracing myself. It would come, I was sure of it.

My eyes were narrowed in on hers, and I watched as realization began to fold out, and more memories bombarded her, slowly her eyes filled with dangerously brimming tears. Her lower lip was trembling heavily, and her breath was getting ragged and shallow as memory by memory assaulted her mind. Her shoulders were shaking, her hands unable to stay in balled fists any longer. They loosened and shook along with the rest of her tiny delicate body.

Then, a cry tore from her throat.

As soon as the sound began falling from her chapped lips, I was on my feet with alert and my novel had dropped to the floor, long forgotten. I swept across the short space separating my armchair from the bed, and I swiftly collected the broken girl in my arms, letting go of my own guard and stoic emotions. It wasn't about me and my mask of sentiments – I was here to help this girl through the hardest time she would have in her life.

As soon as my arms embraced her with all the warmth I could muster, she completely broke down, and sobs violently racked her body like an earthquake, and her fingers clenched the skin of my back tightly, as if she was afraid she would fall. _As if she would fall back into her Strigoi form_. Her tears were quick to douse saltiness wetness on my simple grey t-shirt. She fit in my arms so easily, and I barely felt her weight as she clung onto my desperately, cries breaking into the previous eerie silence of my room. Her weeps pierced my eyes, the sound haunting me.

_She was only sixteen_.

She was a _child_.

I didn't even have to look over my shoulder to realize there was someone behind me. It only took me a moment to recognize her presence as Viktoria's. She lingered by the door, and I could practically sense her heartbroken emotions. The tormented cries of the girl in my arms seemed to hit Viktoria as hard as they hit me. Viktoria stood by the door, respectfully, adamant on not interrupting the girl's cries. She understood that she needed to let it out, all of it.

The wetness on my shirt increased in size, and I whispered soothing Russian words in the girl's ears, rocking her ever so gently. She was so fragile, so delicate.

My Russian words thickly fell upon her ears, and I didn't have any idea if they affected her at all. She simply cried, her sobs ripping apart the happiness atmosphere that always seemed to embrace the Belikov house. This girl's sadness, her guilt and torment, it was painfully overwhelming. She was so young, so heartbreakingly young that it bit at my soul. _She didn't deserve this, any of it_.

I didn't have the scientific measure, but it felt like more than an hour. I just sat there, ignoring the intensifying cramps of discomfort from sitting still for so long. The girl cried and sobbed and wept. Until there were no more tears to shed.

Viktoria had just returned after leaving a while ago to quickly have breakfast and most likely inform the rest of my family what was happening currently in my bedroom. Mama had ducked her head in several times, but didn't dare intrude the fragile situation.

"Viktoria," I spoke softly, my voice barely audible. "Can you please take her to the bathroom and help her bathe." I knew the chore could possibly be awkward for Viktoria, but the girl was so out of it, and unaware of everything at the moment, that I didn't think she would be bothered by it. If Viktoria was uneasy with the request, she certainly didn't show it. It made me fleetingly smile.

Viktoria stood by and eased by the girl's side, helping her to her feet and leading her to the bathroom. She glanced over to me and gave me a half-hearted reassuring smile. _She'll be fine_, she silently promised. I swallowed the lump in my throat that I hadn't even noticed until this moment, and then I inspected the large damp patch on my t-shirt. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut briefly before I flicked the lamp off, and then turned on the ceiling light, allowing brighter light to flood the room. I exited, and quietly called out for mama.

She appeared out of the kids' bedroom, bouncing the baby I labelled as Zoya. Zoya was older than Valeriya, almost a year old now. Zoya was hooked on mama's side, and her face was rosy with hot tears.

"Is she okay?" It was a question I think she realized was fruitless. Of course she wasn't okay – she was a complete and utter mess.

I didn't answer the question, and instead I asked one of my own. "Is there any clothes I can leave out for her?" I gestured to the shut bathroom door, "I would ask Vika, but…"

Mama smiled cordially and nodded, "Viktoria already offered some of her clothes, and I went to the stores and bought her some underwear and some more clothes of her own." Of course, why didn't I already expect my mother to have it under control? She had been a mother for a very long time, as well as a grandmother – she knew what she was doing.

Mama informed me where the clothes were, downstairs, before she returned to the children's bedroom, evidently putting the sleeping Zoya back in bed. I collected the pile of clothes from the dining table, and took them to my room, for when the girl returned.

Though, when I was about to exit the bedroom, Viktoria intercepted my path, guiding the girl back to the room. They both looked up at me, and I had to tear my gaze from the mesmerizing indigo-coloured hues. I didn't think I would ever get used to it, truthfully – they were awing. Viktoria gave me a weak smile, her eyes pained that she felt so hopeless in the situation she was in. She wanted to help the girl, but she had no idea how to.

To my thorough astonishment, the girl gave me the tiniest of smiles, and her eyes blazed colourfully. "Thank you – for everything." Her voice was raw and cracked from all her crying earlier, but her words were still sincere.

"You don't need to thank me," I firmly replied. She honestly didn't. But I understood it – I'd done the same thing after I'd been restored. I was desperate to lay my alliance on Vasilisa. Although, technically, I hadn't been the one to actually restore her, that had been Oksana. I assumed the girl would like to properly meet Oksana and thank her personally. It was more than understandable.

"I'm Lola," she barely whispered, still wrapped in only a towel. She peered up at me with broken purple eyes. "Lola Solovyov."

I nearly choked. "You're-" I stopped myself, controlling my bout of curiosity as I smiled warmly at her. "I'm Dimitri."

Her face twisted scarcely. "I know," she breathed, "I-I've heard of you." Her lower lip jutted and trembled dangerously. I blinked, trying to comprehend her confusing words.

Then it hit me, and my stomach lurched sickeningly.

_She'd heard of my notorious Strigoi reputation_.

My jaw clenched tightly and I just nodded briskly to her. She looked hazardously close to bursting into hysterical tears. Viktoria looked from Lola to me, her gaze full of discomfort at Lola's words. She understood as well as I did. She knew that I was well-known among the Strigoi during my time.

"There are some clothes on the bed for you," I stiffly told Lola, trying to sound warm and gentle so she was comfortable, but I found it impossible after what she'd just revealed to me. And it wasn't just the fact that she knew who I was as a Strigoi, but also her name. _Lola Solovyov_. I stepped around the two girls and headed down the stairs, only to stop before right foot hit the second step. I sucked in a wavering breath and gripped the banister tightly, watching as my knuckles turned white. I gazed over my shoulder briefly, and to my surprise, Lola had paused at the doorway of my bedroom, and she was watching me with a troubled expression. _I'm sorry_, her silent words conveyed. I just swallowed tightly and gave a small nod of acceptance and understanding, before I turned and continued down the stairs, my mind still perturbed.

I reached the conjoined dining room and kitchen, where mama was folding up a basket of newly washed clothing, and placing them in piles on the table. I stood in the archway for a while, unable to process what was going on myself.

"Mama," I called for her attention, and she looked over at me warmly, expectant. "She… Her name is Lola Solovyov."

Mama drew in a sharp breath, and her hand was placed over her mouth in shock. "_Solovyov_? Dimka, she's Russian _royalty_," she hissed with wide stressful eyes, "we need to notify her relatives as soon as possible."

My heart plummeted, and even though I didn't like to admit it, I knew why. I didn't want to let go of Lola so fast. The reasoning wasn't entirely about my own weaknesses and heart, though – I was afraid of dumping Lola back in her old environment and placing unaccountable pressure on her shoulders. I knew how awfully difficult it was, to try and fit back it. She wouldn't be able to. Her entire view would be different, she wouldn't be able to go back home without everything being miserable. No one would truly understand, not anyone. I did, though. And I wanted, with all my heart, to help her.

But, I refrained from speaking my musings to my mama, because, as painful as it was, she didn't entirely understand either.

"Mama, she-" But I cut myself short when I heard the easily recognized sound of footsteps on the staircase. I twisted my head around, looking at the occupants of the wooden, aged stairs. It was Viktoria and Lola.

My eyes automatically fell onto Lola, and she looked painfully adorable, and I felt my Guardian melting like chocolate in the sun. She had such delicate features, and her size and wide, mesmerizing eyes didn't help mask her cuteness. I never thought I would be garbling about how cute a girl was – never.

She was wearing clothes that mama had purchased her from downtown Baia, which were grey cotton sweatpants and a long-sleeve plain black shirt. Her rich chocolate curly hair was brushed, and it looked much better without dirty knots and grimy tangles. The tight ringlets fell tremendously long, brushing her hips. I wondered how many years it had taken her to get it to that length. I blinked away from wandering thoughts and offered her an earnest smile.

"Would you like some breakfast?" I asked her, simply ignoring uncomfortable questions until she was, well, comfortable. She looked at me gratefully and nodded.

"Yes, please," she whispered, her voice still bruised from her excessive crying and sobbing earlier. Nevertheless, her voice reminded me of honey – it was very sweet and soft, and even after all the hell she'd been through, it still somehow sounded _innocent_.

I walked over to the bread loaf, which mama had wrapped up with a tea towel so it wouldn't get stale. I cut two slices off the black bread and placed it on a plate and wrapped the loaf up securely again, and turned around with the plate held in my hand. Viktoria had led Lola to the table and they were both seated at the dining table, while mama was still folding.

"Lola, dear, are those clothes alright? I wasn't sure about what size you were comfortable with." Mama looked at Lola in concern, and Lola just quickly shook her head, her wide indigo eyes looking at mama.

"No, they're perfect, Mrs Belikova," she replied hurriedly, her voice cracking a few times through her sentence. I sited the plate in front of her, and she glanced up with huge grateful eyes.

"Thank you, Guardian Belikov." Obviously she was wild with trying to convey her profuse appreciation and gratitude to the entire family. She didn't want to give anyone any reason to dislike her at all, and I wasn't sure how anyone could. Looking at her, I struggled to find one thing wrong with her personality, her behaviour, and her manners.

"Not Guardian Belikov," I corrected her with a soft smile, "just Dimitri."

She opened her mouth, and looked at me with a very sheepishly gaze. I just chuckled softly. "Dimitri," she repeated timidly, with the tiniest smile tracing her lips.

"And I'm just Olena, dear, none of that 'Mrs' business," mama winked at Lola, whose smile widened by a very small measurement, but it was there.

"Olena," Lola affirmed, just as she'd done with me. Mama smiled widely and scurried out of the room with all the clothes and basket piled up in her arms. I sat down at the head of the table, and my eyes subtly flickered to Lola, who was coyly nibbling on the bread. I understood it, remembering how strange it was to be eating regular human food after so long. It definitely took a while to get used to again.

I hesitated, holding my entangled hands on the table, my fingers intertwined loosely. "Lola…" I struggled, before I cleared my mind and straightened up. My stoic mask fell over my face, and I braced myself. The quicker I got this over with, the better. "I know you've just woken up, and believe me, I understand how disorientating it can be. But I need to know who to contact. So you can go home," I clarified, not showing how much it pained me to do so. "Your family needs to be informed about what's happened – I'm sure they would be beyond happy to hear you're Moroi again."

When I finished, I only realized then how much my words had shook Lola. I couldn't understand what I'd specifically said to get such a horrified expression from her. Her lower lip overhung and trembled visibly, and her eyes were glassy with brimming tears.

Automatically, Viktoria slowly put her arm around Lola's delicate frame, hugging her lightly. I noticed that she was very careful not to scare Lola; obviously she'd been very sensitive by sudden touches. I couldn't help but be proud of Viktoria in that moment, though. She was handling the situation so well, so _perfectly_, it was incredible.

"Dimka-Lola, dear, what's wrong?" Mama had re-entered the room, and her eyes immediately found Lola, who was tip-toeing on the cliff of breaking down. And as much as it tore me apart and as much as my own mind shouted at me, I had to prod further. I had to get this conversation over as quickly as I could so this would be over. I didn't like seeing Lola suffering and looking so broken and terrified. She looked so delicate, and those emotions just seemed to be capable of crushing her.

Mama was fidgeting with her fingers, not knowing what to do with herself while Lola struggled with obtaining her feelings.

Several minutes dripped by quietly, until Lola found her voice.

"Do you remember that man?" She whispered, and it took me a second to realize she was talking to me, with her face still tilted down, hidden by the curtain of her curly hair. "The one in the alley?"

I drew in a breath between my teeth, and hesitantly nodding, not following her words perfectly. What did he have to do with the conversation we'd just been having?

Her bright indigo eyes pierced mine, the colourful hues seeming… haunted.

"He's my papa."

There were sharp gasps from around the room, myself excluded. I just stared, keeping my stoic mask intact.

"Lola," I breathed, closing my eyes momentarily in horror, "what about your mama?" It was like I already knew what the answer was going to be. I could already see the words forming on her lips, the sounds about to hit my eardrums.

"She…" Lola let out a wrenching sob, and she choked on her words. "She's a Strigoi as well."

My stomach dropped nauseatingly.

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**How was it? :D I'm pleased with how that chapter turned out, especially with trying to write all that stuff about how being a Strigoi was... Haha, I don't really have experience in being Strigoi! We'll get more into Lola's past, which I'm excited about as well. I'm also excited about introducing more characters to Lola! I would really appreciate feedback, even if it's just one or two words. It's just three seconds from your day ;) and it would mean the world, since I'm not getting many reviews at all telling me how I'm going. I feel lost... Anyway, I have a surprise for you next chapter, which I hope you're keen for! :D Well, I hope you favourite at least, or follow... Thanks for reading anyway! x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! I've had a day off school today, but I didn't really use it to write, sorry. :) I don't even know what I ****_have_**** done today, but anyway... I've finished this chapter, that's what matters! :D The fourth chapter already, and this has been, what, a week? You lucky ducks! :D I hope you enjoy, and make sure to review, even if it's one word or a smiley face! Haha thanks for reading!**

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**Lola**

I stood up abruptly, and let my eyes raked from all three Belikov faces that were gathered at the dining table.

They were all painstakingly kind people, and I knew from the moment I opened my eyes that I didn't deserve any of it. I should be left to rot in my own misery – this was my entire fault, it was my doing. Why were they helping me? Why were they taking pity on me? They didn't need me weighing them down; I wasn't their responsibility – especially Dmitri's. I couldn't even understand why he even spared me a second glance.

My eyes were full of tears, blurring my vision completely. I trembled as I waved my hand remorsefully. "I'm sorry," I cracked, and blindly ran from the adjoined dining and kitchen, then straight out the front door.

I was on a nocturnal schedule, and the glowing moon flooded light upon my exposed skin while I ran from the Belikovs' house. My feet were bare and they slapped against the road as I gradually slowed, my chest heaving with sobs. My pace slowed ditheringly and I stumbled as a cry tore from my parted, chapped lips. I stagged unsteadily, blubbering before another cry escaped my throat, and I sunk to the ground, hitting the chilled bitumen road. I sat, on my knees with my legs tucked underneath me. My toes and fingers were going numb in the icy night air.

My face contorted for several moments before I surrendered to my emotions and let myself weep pathetically on the side of the road, in the middle of the night. My body shook and convulsed with sobs, and I tilted forwards, pressing my palms against the road as I heaved cries. My face was tracked with hot, frustrated tears and my throat ached painfully, restricted from breathing.

I gasped for breath, watching my tears splash softly on the asphalt street.

"Lola?"

The voice was gentled, and was swept away in the swaying night-time wind after they left his lips. I heard his gracious footsteps come nearer, until he stood directly in front of me, his dirtied boots in my line of eyesight. He didn't move, he didn't rush to my side. He allowed me to relieve my internal pain – although I was terrified it would never truly go away, no matter how much I cried.

I wiped the back of my hand across my heated cheeks, brushing my damp skin. Pressing my lips together until they turned white, I looked up at Dimitri with what I could only describe as a broken gaze. He was a handsome man, in his mid-twenties. His brown hair, a very similar colour to my own, was shoulder-length and was tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Several strands had fallen from the band, and was brushed back and forth across his face with the breeze. He had dark, sharp features. His jaw was strong and his cheekbones were well-defined. His eyes were dark brown, the moon igniting the russet hues. He was a handsome man, no doubt.

"Lola, everything will be okay," He promised me gently, his eyes zeroed on me with determination.

Suddenly, something erupted within me.

Like a volcano, all my tormented anger that had quickly built up since I'd been restored, exploded hugely. My indigo purple eyes blazed dangerously as I got to my feet, my fists clenched by my sides. I glared at Dimitri furiously.

"_No_!" I shouted. "_Nothing_ will be okay. I've killed more than a hundred people – and ripped apart their families! I was _evil_, I was heartless. Nothing will be _okay_. I have gallons of blood on my hands, just because I was too stupid and useless to fight my own parents off. I knew what they were! I knew they were Strigoi, and I didn't do _anything_ to stop them. It's my own fault! I killed _countless_ people – and I _enjoyed_ it. Then I dropped their dead bodies and walked away, _proud of myself_." Hot, angry tears flooded down my cheeks, and a huge gust of wind blew my unkempt hair around wildly. Dimitri's eyes flashed as he stood just as fierce, planted on the spot as gales propelled his loose strands of hair around his face.

"I _understand_, Lola! _I_, of all people you will ever meet in your life, understand _everything_ you're going through right now. _I've_ been right where you are – I've murdered and destroyed life after life. _I've_ felt so angry and frustrated at everything. _I've_ been so desperate to repair all the damage I did that I thought killing Strigoi would ease my guilt. _I've_ blamed myself for everything wrong in the world – _I still do_! _I've_ thought I was so evil and disgusting that I thought it was best if I just killed myself and saved everyone the heartache. _I've_ cried because I can't close my eyes without seeing their faces haunting me. Believe me, Lola, _I understand_." His eyes never wavered, they never left mine during his entire tirade. "This is _you_, Lola," He gestured around us with incredulity, "You need to let it _go_. _You need to forgive yourself_."

His words tore me from our connected gaze, and I finally realized what was going on around me. Raging wind was blowing leaves and dirt into tornados around us, and nearby tree branches were being pulled and tugged in the wild storm. From the side of the road, out the front of a oblivious house, a car was lifted and hovered above the ground quaveringly.

Then, my heart dropped.

This wasn't just a sudden storm – this was _magic_. _This was me_.

My magic had erupted out of control. I didn't know how it exploded so easily, so quickly, but it did. The wind still blew my hair around manipulatively, whipping near my face dangerously. I looked down at my clenched fists, which were horribly white from the lack of blood flow that I was allowing.

"Lola," Dimitri whispered, his words barely reaching my ears. "You need to stop, Lola." His dark eyes were following me watchfully, but he didn't step towards me to try to physically stop my exploding rage. He stood safely away, willing me with his eyes to stop. "You're going to hurt people, Lola."

It was like a trigger. My fists fell open and my shoulders slumped in defeat. My insides shifted, as if immediately released from the strain of my magic. I felt it drain from my body, taking my energy along with it. My knees trembled, before giving way underneath my weight, and I fell.

Before I could blink, Dimitri was by me and caught me easily, holding me up by wrapped his arm around my torso securely.

"I'm sorry, Dimitri…" I mumbled tiredly, my eyes drooped. "I'm such a mess…"

Then I completely collapsed in his grasp, tumbling into the pits of siesta.

I mumbled incoherently as I pried my eyes open and drowsed sleepily. I sat up, stretching out my stiff muscles, and then I paused as muffled voices found my eardrums. I perked up curiously – someone was here. I got out of bed and quietly headed out of the bedroom and stood near the banister by the staircase, stopping to listen to the conversation going on downstairs.

"…She's powerful, Oksana. She just about swept the whole street up in a storm." It didn't take a genius to realize they were talking about me and my outburst on the road with Dimitri.

"I need to see her." I recognized Oksana's voice, and I took in a sharp breath as I recalled out first meeting. She'd restored me. I was about to start down the stairs, but for some reason, I decided against it and continued to listen to them talk about me. I wanted to know what they thought of me. "I have to find out how powerful she is, and I need to know what kind of abilities she possesses. I've never heard of someone as young as her that can lift cars off the ground. She must be an air user."

I blinked, tilting my head in surprise at that assumption – although, it did sound quite logical. Lifting cars off the ground was something of an air user's talents.

I finally decided to go downstairs and make my presence known. I headed down the steps and entered the kitchen, where I scanned and realized Oksana's husband, whose name I didn't know, and Olena were also sitting at the table with Dimitri and Oksana. All of them heard me and their eyes fell on me in surprise.

"I'm not an air user," I felt the need to meekly point out. I stood there awkwardly, as Oksana drew in a choked breath.

"Oh my…" A hand flew to her mouth as she stared at me with wide eyes. "you're a _spirit user_."

I flushed and looked down bashfully. "Oh, I…" I trailed off. "I forgot to mention that."

"You're so… _powerful_." Oksana tried to calm herself, her palm pressed against her slightly heaving chest, while the rest of the group was glancing between me and Oksana in shock.

"I… How about I explain everything to you?" I suggested hopefully, my cheeks still rosy with bashfulness. Olena warmly pulled out the chair beside her, and gestured welcomingly for me to take a seat. I gratefully did so, and squirmed slightly. I glanced at Olena with sincerely sorry eyes. "I'm sorry for running out, Olena," I apologized, feeling upset that I might have deterred whatever impression she'd had of me. She certainly hadn't had a good first impression, considering the fact that I'd been a Strigoi when she first met me.

Olena just waved it off easily, smiling kindly at me. "It's fine, dear."

I smiled and turned to the rest of the occupants of the dining table, swallowing nervously. "I won't give you the thorough details, but… my mama and papa were both spirit users and they were always studying and trying to understand their limits and abilities as spirit users. It's why they became so close in the first time, because they understood each other. Before I was born, they became bonded, a two-way bond."

"Your parents were both shadow-kissed by each other?" Dimitri asked in amazement. I gave a tiny smile and nodded.

"The specifics don't really matter, but they both ended up being bonded together, which made them magically stronger. Because they're bonded, attached by their magic, they got stronger in their abilities. When I was born, they started checking on my aura, hoping to see if I would specialize in spirit or not. They were kind of split on it though – they knew how hard dealing with the darkness was, but they still thought it would be nice if I passed on the magical genetics. I specialized earlier than what was normal, and my parents told me it was because my magic built up faster, and it was much more powerful than anyone elses'. Because both my parents were really powerful spirit users, and that part of their genes was passed on, I was just as strong. From the moment I specialized, they started helping me develop my powers, and I was very advanced for my age. I had to stay in a beginners' elements class in school, though, because to everyone else, I hadn't specialized. My papa was turned and awakened into a Strigoi just before I turned fifteen, and a year later, both me and my mama were also awakened."

Olena gently took my hand and squeezed it assuringly. "I'm so sorry for everything you've gone through, Lola," she sincerely said. I just gave her a weak smile. It was a miracle I'd kept it together throughout my long explanation. It was so fresh – I'd only been with my Strigoi parents a day ago. Now I was Moroi again, and I was slightly bashful to say aloud that I was in need of a feeder. I hadn't fed since… I was Strigoi.

"So, as a spirit user, what can you do?" Oksana questioned gently, referring to my powers that I'd developed.

"I can read auras, which is a given, I can mind-read, like you," I indicated to Oksana, a bit embarrassed about admitting that I'd accidentally caught her thoughts. "I have the power of telekinesis, which is what happened out on the streets. I can heal and dream-walk as well… That's about it," I flushed when all their eyes were heavily staring at me.

"I envy you," Oksana suddenly chuckles softly shaking her head in wonder. "You're _very_ powerful. I don't even think _you_ realize how potent you are. I'm more than thirty and you have abilities I could've even dream of, and you're, what, sixteen?"

I blushed beetroot, and nodded meekly at her last questioning statement. She just leaned back, shaking her head in awe.

"We really need to talk someday. I've never dream-walked or had telekinesis abilities. It's incredible."

"How did your parents deal with their darkness? Did they heal each other?"

My smile faltered slightly, as I wistfully remembered back when we were all Moroi. It was a long time ago. "They used to," I told Oksana's husband, who I also recognized as her bondmate. He was shadow-kissed. "It wasn't really much use, though, because they were bonded together and the magic just reflected back anyway."

Oksana's eyes narrowed in confusion. "How did they get rid of the darkness, then?"

I swallowed audibly, my jaw clamped. "They didn't."

"What about you?" Oksana's husband pressed, his eyes drilling into me intensely.

"My parents…" I swallowed the lump in my throat. "They healed me whenever I came home from school, but… they didn't heal themselves. They couldn't." I bowed my head, begging myself not to cry in front of these people. Why was I so weak and pathetic?

"They saved you," Dimitri suddenly stated, studying me. "They sacrificed their own magic and let themselves take all the darkness so you wouldn't be affected."

I swallowed and nodded, briefly closing my eyes. I slowly stood up, and glanced at everyone apologetically. "I'm sorry – I'm just going to go for a walk, clear my head… There's feeders here, isn't there?" It wouldn't be a very functional community otherwise, so it really was a stupid question.

Dimitri stood up. "I'll go with you. I can take you to the feeders." I paused for a moment before nodding gratefully as I skirted around Olena and followed behind Dimitri. I halted at the archway glancing back at Oksana and her husband.

"It was nice meeting you both," I honestly told them. They just smiled back at me, and then I slipped back upstairs to put on some shoes and a jacket. Bounding back down the stairs, unable to resist the childish urge inside me, I smiled thankfully at Dimitri, who held the front door open for me. I stepped through, and waited as he shut it and we fell into synchronized steps together, albeit Dimitri was walking at a much slower pace than he would've rather, with my short legs scurrying to move at a reasonable pace.

"I'm sorry for my… outburst," I blushed colourfully, my eyes blazing shamefully. "I guess my magic's uncoordinated after being dormant for so long."

Dimitri smiled softly at me, "that could explain it. And don't worry about it, Lola, I've been there." A silence floated between us comfortably as we walked towards downtown Baia.

"What… what did you do after you were restored?" I quietly asked him, my eyes carefully studying his reaction to my question. If he felt anything like me as he'd told me earlier, then questions involving his Strigoi bout would be painfully tender.

He didn't answer for a while, and for a moment I began doubting if he actually would, instead just ignoring the question.

Then he breathed audibly out his nostrils, and stared ahead, not looking at me. "Truthfully… I isolated myself. I pushed away the only person who understood me, and I blamed myself for everything wrong in the world. It was hard – it still is. It'll get easier, maybe, but it takes a long time to forgive yourself." His words imprinted in my mind inspirationally.

"I'm glad that I have you here, Dimitri," I blushed again, throwing a lopsided smile his way, "It's nice that we… can relate." He nodded at me, smiling ever so slightly, and we continued walked down the quiet road. "It's Rose Hathaway, isn't it?"

His graceful pace faltered for the tiniest blink of time, and he looked at me in surprise. "How did you know?"

I smiled, a grimace momentarily quirking my upturned lips. "You know how influential you were in the Strigoi ranks," I pointed out, "and everyone knew about your relation with Guardian Hathaway, after you followed her to America. You, um, took a noticeable army of Strigoi with you."

Dimitri grimaced visibly, guilt and shame painting his features. "It was her," he paused, giving me a small smile, fondness sparkling in his dark brown eyes. "I hurt her a lot, so I pushed her away entirely because I thought it was what was best for her. She's stubborn though," he chuckled softly, glancing up towards the skies, "and now, I'm the happiest I've ever been, having her by my side. Lola, the reason I told you this is… I don't want you to go down that path at all. I don't want you to push away people who will possibly be the best thing to ever happen to you. I don't want you to go through the heartache I did because I couldn't face Rose after hurting her so much while I was Strigoi." Dimitri gave a small shrug, looking at me with honest eyes. "It's not worth it."

My eyes were glittering with unshed tears, and I smiled weakly at Dimitri, showing my gratitude for him opening up about such personal details to me, a girl he'd barely known for more than one day. I don't think I would ever be able to repay him for what he'd already done for me, and the valued advice he'd offered.

"I had a boyfriend, y'know," I gave a crooked grin to Dimitri, although I'm sure he saw the pain that stained the smile. I wondered briefly if it would ever diminish and disappear, but I wasn't sure it would. It would always be there, reminding me of the heartless deeds I'd committed during my Strigoi era. Dimitri cocked a brow curiously, his expression having relaxed from the previous pinched state. "He was the most sweetest boy I'd ever met, heart of gold and feelings on his sleeve. I met him when I went to a nearby pub, and he was trying to get drunk but he ran out of money so he was drinking water." I giggled, tears filling my eyes longingly. "He was so pure and dopey."

Dimitri laughed, smiling at me. "He sounds like an incredible person."

I closed my eyes wistfully, before glancing over to Dimitri, "he was human."

Dimitri blinked, not hiding his inevitable surprise as he looked down at me, his eyes widened. "Human?" He repeated it, as if unsure of his hearing.

I smiled softly, nodding.

"He was a human. It's why I loved him – I didn't have to worry about Moroi conflicts or even think about my spirit darkness. We met just before my papa died… he was my rock," my smile widened marginally, affectionately soft. "I was really happy with him, but we never really officially started dating. As much as I loved him and enjoyed spending time together, I kept so many secrets from him, and I didn't want to hurt him. Only a month before I was turned, I told him we couldn't spend as much time together because my mama had gotten horribly depressed, finally cracking after my papa awakened. I never saw him again."

The soft breeze brushed across my cheeks, and I wiped a lone tear that I hadn't noticed I'd spilled.

"Why don't you go see him?" Dimitri asked gently. "Once you settle in with being Moroi again, why don't you go see him? Maybe he'll help you more than you think. By the sounds of it, he seems very trustworthy."

I didn't reply, as I flipped his words over in my mind, pondering them. "I don't know," I eventually answered, truthfully. "I don't know if he'd even want to see me at all. I think it's nearly been ten months since I was awakened."

"But don't you want to check on him?" Dimitri questioned, trying not to sound as if he was prying. He'd caught me though, with his question. It would be nice to just check on him, and make sure he was doing okay, even if he wasn't aware of my brief presence. I just wanted to know he was doing fine. Then again, I could just call him. I could call his home line, actually, and just ask his mother if he was alright, then ask her not to tell him. I didn't want to disrupt his life at all if he was okay, I didn't want to be a pain and knock everything out of place. Maybe he didn't even think about me at all, maybe he'd moved on quickly and his life was perfect. Selfishly, I wish it wasn't true, but deep down, it's all I wanted. We'd never have a future, even though I loved him. I could admit to myself that I didn't love him enough to put him through the hell that our relationship would be if I revealed all my hidden secrets. It wasn't worth the trouble, especially for him. I loved him too much to let him get hurt like that.

"I think it's best to just let him go," I confessed aloud, the words piercing my tongue as they escaped my lips. But they were true, I reminded myself mentally. It was for the best, I truly believed that.

Dimitri gazed at me quizzically, before he nodded. "I understand."

A while later, we arrived in downtown, and Dimitri led me to the feeders' building, where I quickly slipped inside and fed, before leaving the building and returning to Dimitri, who was waiting patiently outside, leaning against the building's brick wall.

After we got some groceries that Dimitri said his mother had been pondering about earlier, we began walking back to the Belikovs' house, the route very peaceful and calm.

"Do you have any other family members you can go to, may I ask?" Dimitri questioned hesitantly, peering at me tentatively.

I exhaled deeply, shrugging indifferently. "I have quite a few aunts and uncles, which is kind of common knowledge I guess. I'm not really close to them – my parents were too different for their liking, and I never really got the chance to get to know them. I'll try and get in contact with them, though," I promised, casting a sidelong look at the tall dhampir beside me.

He met my eyes. "If it doesn't work out, it doesn't matter, Lola. We can figure something else out. I go back to America at the end of the week, maybe you can come with me. There's two other spirit users I know there, I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

I blinked in surprise. "Two?" Spirit users were quite rare – it was very unlikely to stumble upon them, but Dimitri seemed to have connections with quite a few, it appeared. My parents knew several themselves, but they were spread all over the world.

Dimitri smiled and told me, "Queen Vasilisa is a spirit user, as is Adrian Ivashkov." I nodded, making a mental note of the two names. It would be quite cool to meet more spirit users and compare notes on our abilities and experiences. Even though my parents were heavily involved in researching spirit users, it would be nice to talk to fellow spirit users. There weren't very many of us.

"Isn't Adrian Ivashkov Queen Tatiana's great nephew – or, was?"

Dimitri nodded.

The rest of the walk was filled with the odd bouts of conversation, but it was mostly comfortable silence, and we just took in the simplicity and beauty of the scenery we passed by, even if it wasn't truly very special sights. Everything was seen in an entirely new light after being Strigoi. I looked at the details, finding myself grateful for everything I came across. Everything was beautiful, it was all special.

When we arrived at the house, I stubbornly insisted on helping Olena cook and serve dinner. Especially when Dimitri's sisters came home – I decided to give them quality time together, feeling guilty that I'd been taking up a lot of Dimitri's time and attention since we'd both got here. I took the babies and Paul into the kitchen, and Zoya and Valeriya were sitting in their highchairs obliviously cheerful. Paul was perched on the corner of the kitchen bench, and he was watching me and Olena with avid, curious eyes as we flittered around the kitchen. He helped peel some potatoes and carrots, more than willing to lend assistance.

"Paul, can you please go tell the others that dinner's ready?" Olena asked warmly. Paul immediately jumped off his stool, nodding as he ran into the lounge room.

I helped Olena serve out the plates on the table, and I couldn't help but feel, underneath the surfaced contentment, turmoil and grief. What scared me more, was the fact that I didn't know how to get rid of it – although, I knew I didn't really deserve to get rid of it. It was my fault it was there in the first place, I deserved it.

I couldn't help but feel unworthy as I took a seat in a back pew, Dimitri right behind me. I didn't feel like I was allowed to come in such a sacred place after what I'd done.

Dimitri had told me last night after dinner that he was going to go to church in the morning, and asked if I wanted to join him. I couldn't remember my exact motive at that moment, but I had accepted easily. Now, sitting here uncomfortably, I wondered why I agreed. I didn't belong here, I was fooling myself into thinking I was normal again. _But you are_, a part of my mind reminded me. I wasn't a Strigoi anymore; I wasn't uncontrollably draining innocent lives. I was a Moroi again.

"It's okay," Dimitri murmured to me reassuringly. "I know it feels strange being in here, but that's what matters – you're in here. Strigoi cannot get inside sacred buildings." I mulled over his words quietly, knowing he was right. If I was a Strigoi, I wouldn't have been in here in the first place, so a newfound gratefulness swept over me. I should be grateful that I could even access a church, I should be grateful I was free.

"Why do you come here?" I murmured curiously to Dimitri. I wasn't oblivious, I knew there was a better reason than to pray to God for him wanting to go to church. At least, that's what I thought.

Dimitri smiled lightly, "I don't really listen to the services," he admitted. "I just come to… compensate, I guess, for what I've done, and the murders I've committed." He held a strong front, and said the words blankly, but I knew how much they hurt him to say.

"You've been coming ever since you killed your first Strigoi as a Guardian?" I asked aloud, although I realized the answer myself in my mind. It would be naïve of me to think he only began coming after he was restored. Not everything in our lives were merely surrounded around our Strigoi periods. He'd had a life beforehand, like I had, and he was well-known for his Guardian reputation, after all. Obviously, he'd killed before.

Dimitri smiled slightly at me. "You're very observant," he said.

I blushed, and just shrugged wordlessly.

"I have been coming since I made my first kill." He confirmed my thoughts. "It's a peaceful place to just… think."

Nothing more was said on the matter, I respectfully let it go as I sat back while the service began. My eyes were zeroed on the avid priest the entire time, but I wasn't aware of a single thing he'd said. My mind had travelled far away, in a similar place where I realized Dimitri's must be.

Being reminded of Strigoi only made my mind flash image after image endlessly of countless innocents I'd murdered. Young women, young men, even couples, teenagers – they were all part of the long list of my slayed victims. I'd torn them from their lives, from their families, and that was something that I could _never_ compensate.

The service finished, and Dimitri and I were very gradual in leaving the church. In fact, the both of us stayed planted in our seats, our minds drifted in deep directions. My thoughts were cut off, though, when the priest wandered over with kind sparkling eyes. Dimitri was still lost in thought, and didn't acknowledge the priest's arrival by his side.

"This is your first service?" The priest questioned, his words aimed directly at me.

I smiled nicely, and nodded. "It was wonderful – thank you for having us," I told him, on behalf of Dimitri as well, who was still silent.

The priest waved it off kindly. "Of course, of course."

Dimitri pulled out of his revere, and we both stood up, shuffling out of our pew. We both smiled at the priest, nodding in appreciation, and began walking towards the grand entrance of the church.

"You have death surrounding you, dear girl."

I froze, and turned. My eyes found the priest, who was squinting at me troublingly. Dimitri had stopped as well, and was eyeing the priest cautiously.

"Excuse me?" I finally got out, taken aback by his sudden words.

He shook his head slowly. "You have death all around you, dear – it's following you. Spirits… _souls_."

Dimitri had stepped closer to me, and gently grasped my upper arm. "Let's go," he murmured to me. My mouth opened, but I shut it speechlessly, struggling to get my thoughts into audible words.

Dimitri thought the priest meant something along the lines of the lives I'd taken as a Strigoi, the people I'd killed. He immediately thought that, I realized, but my heart was thudding in my chest because I knew differently. The priest wasn't referring to my murders as a Strigoi, he wasn't even thinking about that. He was thinking of my _spirit_.

I swallowed.

He knew, on some sort of level, about my spirit user powers. But what had shaken me was the fact that he knew the secret I'd buried deep down. He knew of the ability that I was too terrified to ever speak of, even to my parents. No one was supposed to know, no one was supposed to _ever_ know. I sucked in a deep breath, pinching my eyes closed.

But the priest knew my deepest secret.

He knew I could see ghosts.

* * *

**BAM! The secret is out! What do you think of this newfound spirit power? It's definitely different, huh? I thought it was really cool, and I one hundred per cent promise that there will be much more in depth writing about Lola's powers, as well as her past, so you're just gonna have to keep reading! Oh, and someone also asked if Dimitri and Lola were going to have a romance, and even though the answer is very obvious if you read a certain description, I'm not going to tell the people who don't know, haha. It's not hard to figure out, I promise. Anyway, I hope you liked it, and I'm going to try and attempt to write another VA fanfic at the same time, which I've never had much lucky with, so check on my profile frequently in case I post it! Okie, bye! xx**


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